


And On the First Day of Christmas...

by thepopeisdope



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5430893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepopeisdope/pseuds/thepopeisdope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas picks out a Christmas tree, Dean eats candy canes, and Sam is scarred for life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And On the First Day of Christmas...

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the fabulous [Arianna](http://ariwillowtwist.tumblr.com/).

"But why does the tree need to be _in_ the bunker?"

"Because, Cas, that's how Christmas _works_."

"But _why_ , Dean? Bringing a tree indoors and stringing lights and baubles on it does not correlate in any way to a historically accurate celebration of Christ, or God.”

"Aren't they one and the same? Wait, are angels not Trinitarians?"

That one makes Sam snort. Leave it to Dean to ask the real questions.

Neither his brother nor the angel catch the brief crack in Sam's facade where he’d been feigning indifference, so their argument carries on unimpeded.

"That's a very complex question with a very complex answer," Cas responds curtly. He sounds genuinely annoyed, and Sam doesn't have to turn around to know he's crossing his arms while he glares at Dean. "If you're trying to distract me, you're failing."

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Dean roll his eyes. "Damnit, Cas, it doesn't matter why. This is just the tradition, alright? We're getting a tree for the bunker and that's final."

Cas huffs in displeasure at not being given a proper answer, but doesn't argue further. 

Sam can't help but roll his own eyes. Of course Dean and Cas had to wait until they were in the middle of some half-frozen tree farm in the most remote section of the county to have this fight. Never mind the fact that they've been talking about getting a tree for _days_ , and Cas never once kicked up such a fuss then as he has now, in the short space of time since they pulled up to the tree farm in the Impala. 

At least the scenery is nice, Sam thinks. Because the company is definitely lacking.

Sam can practically _hear_ the other two men still fuming in silence, and he heaves a sigh. In an attempt to help smooth things out, he says to the angel, "Hey Cas, how about you pick out the tree, huh? Any one of them in the ballpark of... What was it? Eight feet? That should work."

Some of the tension leaves Cas' shoulders, but he doesn't look like he quite believes the offer. "Why would I get to choose the tree?"

A few steps ahead of them on the hillside trail, Dean scoffs, though not cruelly. "Cas, you're just as much a part of this family as we are."

Cas goes slightly pink at that. Sam tamps down on his smile and pretends not to notice. 

"Plus," Dean continues, too busy sizing up a tree just off the trail to watch for the reactions to his words, "this will be your first time celebrating Christmas, right? Celebrating the human way, in any case. I'm going to ignore the fact that you were probably there when good ol' JC was born in the first place, by the way." He stands back from the tree and puts his hands on his hips, the saw in his hand at an awkward angle to accommodate the stance. "What about this one, huh? What do you guys think?"

Sam doesn't bother to appraise the tree, but instead just turns to defer to Cas' opinion. Dean hadn't complained when he had declared it Cas' choice, so Sam intends to stick with it. 

Cas seems hesitant to actually make a decision, but he visibly gains confidence when he notices Sam's deferral. He walks forward and circles the tree, checking it up and down for who-knows-what. Eventually he loops around to stand next to Dean, close enough that their arms are practically touching. 

"Well?" Dean prompts. 

Cas shakes his head, almost sadly. "I don't like it."

Dean's shoulders droop. "Seriously? Why not?"

Cas squints at the tree for a moment longer, then repeats his previous head shake, albeit with a bit more force. "This isn't the one. It needs to be..." He starts walking off through the trees, off of the pre-marked trail, before he finishes his thought. 

Dean stares after him for a long minute, looking forlorn at the prospect of this new complication. His expression makes Sam snigger, which in turn causes Dean to whirl on him with a glare. "Shut up, Sam. You're the one who had the wise idea to make this trip so much harder."

Sam shrugs, but he has to bite his lip to hide the grin that threatens to overtake him. "At least he stopped bitching about getting a tree at all."

"Fair enough," Dean concedes. He stalks off in the direction Cas has disappeared in, tapping the saw against his thigh in agitation.

Sam makes sure to stay a reasonable distance behind him. 

They walk around the hillside tree farm for another hour and a half before Cas finally calls out that he found the perfect tree. By that point Sam is convinced that they have looked at literally _every tree_ on the property, but since the angel never resumed his complaints about getting a tree in the first place, Sam is hardly going to make a fuss by trying to speed things along.

He hears Dean's reaction to the eventually-chosen tree before he actually sees it, still picking his way up the hillside to its location in an effort to catch up. 

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Why would I be? This is the perfect tree, Dean."

"No fucking way, Cas. Do you even see this thing?"

Sam reaches them in time to see Cas glare at Dean. "Yes, I see it. If you're insisting on getting a tree fit for the bunker, then this is the one."

Dean is still gaping at the tree, and when Sam follows his gaze, his own jaw drops open as well.

The tree Cas has chosen is _huge_. Like, _nearly twice Sam's height_ , huge. The thing's got to be at least eleven feet tall, maybe even twelve, and it's incredibly filled-out to boot. It has… charm, sure, but Sam doesn't know how in the hell they're supposed to get it back to the bunker, let alone get it _inside_ the bunker. 

Sam sighs. He might as well bite the bullet on this one. “Alright,” he says. “You sure, Cas? No take-backs once we cut it down.”

Dean frowns. “Sam, you can’t be serious. This thing is ridiculous.”

Sam just shrugs. “You wanted a tree, Dean. Go big or go home, right?”

“Fine,” Dean concedes, shaking his head. “You know what? Fine. But Cas, you’re helping me cut it down. Sam, reach in and support the trunk while we saw.”

Sam does as he’s asked without argument. Frankly, he’s just glad that he doesn’t have to sit in the frost-covered dirt and work the saw. The other two can have that job, any day of the week.

Cas drops to his knees next to Dean to peer beneath the tree, totally perplexed by the whole process of cutting it down. Dean is surprisingly patient with his teachings as they take turns sawing through the trunk, and he smiles at Cas the whole time, wider when he thinks no one is looking. Cas smiles too, though more reservedly and in much the same secretive sort of fashion.

The entire ordeal ends up lasting at least twice as long as it probably should have, but on the bright side, Dean and Cas are both too absorbed to notice Sam’s knowing grin.

They’re so lost in each other that it’s almost sad.

~

Getting the tree to the bunker is… Well. It’s one of those experiences that people would call an ‘adventure’ when trying to put a positive spin on all of the misery and frustration that _actually_ occurred.

First, the tree had to be cut and carried down the hill to the attendant. Most of the heavy-lifting was of course done by Cas, who, even down to about half-angel status after the fiasco with Metatron, is still stronger than Dean and Sam put together. Then it had to be taken out through the lot to the Impala, and balanced precariously while they tried to lash it to the roof. They hit their first major roadblock when Dean, not wanting any damage to come to his precious ‘Baby’, threw the world’s biggest hissy-fit before finally, bitterly, relenting.

In the end, there were only a few minor scratches to the paint on top of the car. Nothing Dean couldn’t buff out in an hour or two. It was fine.

After that, of course, came the struggle of trying to get the tree _into_ the bunker. The tree farm had wrapped the tree in a protective net after they had paid for it, so its absurdly wide circumference was at least somewhat manageable. However, that did nothing for the fact that the main entryway to the bunker has a short, hallway-like opening immediately followed by a narrow staircase. The only alternative would be the entrance from the garage into the main building, but that doorway is even narrower and way out of their way from where they want to set the tree up. There was no way they were getting the tree inside via any route other than the front entrance. Navigating _that_ , Cas’ angelic super strength or not, was a bitch.

And finally, when the tree was at last settled in the war room, where the ceilings were high enough to accommodate it, and secured in the base that they had purchased along with it from the tree farm—they came to what may be the biggest struggle of them all.

How to decorate the damn thing.

After all of their difficulties in getting it this far, Sam would have gladly chosen to let the tree sit undecorated for at least a day. The strong, fresh smell of pine that proceeded to pervade the entire front half of the bunker was more than satisfying enough, he thought. There was no need to rush on the decorations.

But Dean, being Dean, had adamantly refused to let it slide. He had grabbed Cas by the elbow and forcefully hauled the angel along with him back out to the Impala, calling back to Sam that they would find a department store and buy everything that they needed.

That was almost two hours ago, and quite honestly, Sam is now terrified of what his brother will eventually end up coming home with.

Only a few more minutes go by before Sam hears the front door open. He had been sitting at his laptop in the library to pass the time while he waited for the shopping trip to end, but the draw of a wifi connection is nowhere near interesting enough to keep him from immediately jumping up and going to investigate Dean and Cas’ loot. Before stopping short.

Sometimes, Sam thinks when he reaches the war room, he really hates his brother.

Scattered around the base of the tree are at least a dozen plastic bags filled to the brim with either cardboard boxes or fluffy strings of silver tinsel. And while the sheer volume of the items is maybe not _totally_ ridiculous, given the size of the tree, what does frustrate Sam is the pair of ladders set up over it all.

“Dean,” he says, trying to maintain his calm, “why the hell did you buy _two_ ladders?”

Dean looks up from a bag he had been rifling through and shrugs. “More efficient than one ladder,” he says. “Besides, I’m pretty sure even _you_ can’t reach the top of this tree, Gigantor. We need the extra boost if we’re going to end up making this thing look as awesome as I plan to.”

Cas just nods along, no doubt having already been brainwashed into sharing Dean’s viewpoint while they were at the store. “This is the best way to do it, Sam.”

Sam scrubs a hand across his face. “Alright, whatever. Did you get enough lights to cover the whole thing?”

“Six boxes,” Dean confirms with a grin. He picks up three bags, each clearly holding two of the said boxes. “Cas and I’ve got this, if you have other things to do. We’ll let you know when we’re ready to actually hang shit.”

The easy dismissal makes Sam blink in surprise. Dean usually seems to like having Sam around at the same time as Cas, as if being alone with the angel runs the potential of being awkward. Sam has always suspected that the behavior stems from the fact that Dean and Cas are very obviously (to everyone but each other) in the ‘mutual pining’ state of their relationship. But maybe they’re making some advancements today? If that’s the case, Sam sure as hell isn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth. Adorable though it may be, the tension between the two gets downright infuriating at times.

He nods and leaves them to it.

~

When Sam next sees the tree, he has to admit, the lights look pretty damn good. They’re evenly distributed from base to tip and almost expertly woven through the branches. Some of the yellow lights even twinkle, although not too rapidly or dramatically to be an eyesore.

All in all, Sam is impressed.

Dean blushes when he voices this, and tries to deflect. “Yeah, well. Apparently Cas has an eye for this sort of thing.”

Cas turns to Dean with a frown. “Dean, this was primarily your doing,” he argues. “I only followed your instructions. You did a wonderful job, and you should not attempt to devalue your work.”

Dean’s blush only deepens, spreading now to the tips of his ears. Sam can’t help but chuckle at the whole exchange, which earns him a sharp glare and a “Shut up, Sammy,” from Dean.

Sam ignores him. He asks of neither of them in particular, “So. What did you get to hang?”

The question easily snaps Dean out of his embarrassment, and he moves toward the remaining plastic bags where they are now piled on the map table. He dumps the tinsel out first, making a large, silvery pile of fluff on one end of the table, while on the other end he stacks boxes of… candy canes.

Sam wrinkles his nose. “Dean, did you really only buy candy canes?”

“And tinsel,” Dean replies defensively. “Do you have any idea how expensive regular ornaments are, Sam? Because let me tell you—they’re fucking absurd. Now _these_ , on the other hand…” He picks up one of the boxes and wiggles it. “These bad boys cost four dollars per eighteen pack. I totally made the right call here and you know it.”

Sam just shakes his head. He really should have known better than to send Dean and Cas to the store on their own. But, he supposes, this is what he gets. Cosmic retribution.

He scoops up an armful of tinsel and takes it over to the tree to begin stringing it. He’s still kind of pissed that Dean had the forethought to buy _two_ ladder, but no actual ornaments. However, there’s no denying that the ladders are, in fact, incredibly necessary to the decorating process as he now attempts to start his tinsel-wrapping from the top of the tree. And, once he’s made his way down most of the tree and Dean and Cas have begun adding candy canes to the area he’s already covered, he also has to admit that the candies’ red and white stripes look surprisingly striking alongside the silver tinsel.

Not that Sam plans on admitting either of those things to Dean. Ever.

Sam joins his brother and the angel in hanging candy canes as soon as the tinsel is finished. He goes to pick up a fresh box from the table, but pauses when he finds a pile of candy cane wrappers stashed next to the discarded plastic store bags. He turns to look at Dean and, sure enough, he has a half-eaten candy cane sticking out of his mouth.

“Dean, come on,” he sighs. “The candy canes are supposed to go _on the tree_ , not be eaten.”

Dean shoots him a glare and makes a point of quickly munching through the remainder of the candy. “Hey man, I _bought_ the things. Pretty sure that makes it my choice.”

Sam rolls his eyes. He carries an unopened box from the table to the tree to begin distributing them, flicking Dean on the side of the head as he passes. “Totally not how it works,” he retorts. “If you eat the decorations, Dean, we won’t have enough for the tree, and then all we’ll have is the lights and the tinsel. That would be pathetic.”

“Not pathetic…” Dean grumbles back under his breath.

Sam ignores him and entreaties Cas on the opposite side of the tree, “Cas, man, back me up on this. The candy canes are for the _tree_ , right?”

Cas doesn’t reply. Dean tries to hide a laugh in a cough.

Sam knows what he’s going to see before he even looks, but he leans around the tree anyway. As expected, Cas is standing there sheepishly, one hand hanging a candy cane on the tree, the box tucked under his arm, and his other hand holding a semi-eaten cane in his mouth. He withdraws it slowly under Sam’s disapproving glare, and offers quietly, “It was Dean’s idea.”

“Oh my _god_ , you two are perfect for each other,” Sam mutters, his agitation spilling out in the shape of things that he _probably_ shouldn’t say. “Whatever. Just don’t eat any more.”

“Hey, Sam.”

Sam turns to scowl at his brother. “What, Dean.”

Without breaking eye contact, Dean reaches into his half-empty box of candy canes, pulls one out, unwraps it, and sticks the looped end into his mouth.

Sam almost snaps the cane in his hand in half. “You’re an asshole.”

Dean, the fucker, just grins. “I know.”

~

Normally, Sam would fight off the urge on principle alone. He hates being a hypocrite, and this? Totally puts him at hypocrite level.

But he didn’t eat a _single_ candy cane today, and really, that alone is a testament to his strength of will—especially considering how many of them had passed through his hands. It wasn’t worth Dean’s inevitable reaction, though. Sam couldn’t eat the candies himself while simultaneously reprimanding Dean and Cas for doing the same.

But… Dean and Cas must have each gone to bed a while ago, right? It's too quiet in the bunker for them not to have. So if Sam were to sneak out to the war room and steal a candy cane from the tree... Well. No one will ever know, right?

Sam is careful while creeping out of his room, overly aware of how the door can squeak when it opens all the way, and sliding out with it only half open to avoid just that. He pads silently down the central hallway, grateful that he at least has socks on to muffle the sounds of his footsteps. The last thing he needs is to get caught in the… but his thoughts trail off at the door to the war room, where a strange sound makes him pause.

Is there... someone in there? It certainly sounds like it, though whichever if the bunker's other occupants it is sounds like they're crying or something. 

" _Dean_."

It's very obviously Cas' voice, which at least calms Sam's concern of it being a monster or a stranger. 

But seriously, what the fuck?

Sam takes the final steps necessary to enter the war room, concern piqued. However, as soon as he registers the scene before him, he hastily slaps his hand over his eyes, fully regretting ever having been born. " _Oh my god_!"

Even with his eyes covered, it's much too late to save his poor brain from having the scene be permanently seared in. All the brain-bleach in the _world_ could not make this any less horrible. 

Dean and Cas, completely naked, under their brand new, fully decorated, twinkling Christmas tree. Discarded clothes flung out in every direction, with Cas sitting in Dean's lap, his legs around Dean's waist, twisting his hips and _writhing_. 

"Sam!" Dean cries, his voice choked with embarrassment and surprise, and yet unmistakably short of breath. "You're supposed to be asleep!"

Sam's face burns with mutual embarrassment, and he is sure as shit not uncovering his eyes. "I was going to steal a candy cane!" he confesses quickly, alarm and embarrassment making his voice an octave higher. There’s no reason to keep the secret now, not when his brother is _fucking an angel under the Christmas tree_. "But you know what? Kinda lost the appeal, now that I think about it. Um, congrats. I guess. I'm just gonna—” He stumbles over his feet as he makes his retreat, only barely managing not to fall over completely. He doesn’t bother to finish his sentence before he makes it back through the doorway, at which point he turns tail and runs back to his room.

On one hand, Sam is happy for both his brother and Cas. With all the shit they’ve gone through over the last few years, they deserve whatever happiness they can find in each other. And at least this should help with the whole _tension and pining_ thing.

But on the other hand? He’s _really_ disappointed that he won’t be able to so much as _look_ at the tree he worked so hard on for the remainder of the holiday season without associating it with the horrific scene he had walked in on.

Sometimes he really hates his brother. But then, it probably wouldn’t be Christmas without Dean traumatizing him in some way or another.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr!](http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com)


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